Dancing with dust
by Lioncur
Summary: What if Caroline lost her memories? What if she forget every cruel thing Damon done to her? Would Damon use the opportunity to fix everything? A story of loneliness and golden eyes.


-I will say names, and you will nodd your head if you remember them. Understood?

- Yes.

Damon pursed his lips into a tiny line. The glass of bourbon has landed on the table.

- Elena Gilbert.

Silence.

- Bonnie Bennett.

Nothing.

- Tyler Lockwood?

She haven't even blinked.

- Damon Salvatore.

She shuddered, as so as he, but after a single heartbeat her eyes were covered by a transparent shield of apathy and passiveness.

- Nothing?

- No...- Caroline shook her head and curled up in a fetal position on the couch.

- Should I know him?- she asked as he stand up to filled his glass with an alcohol once again.

- It would be better for you if you never did. - Damon replied. - But that's how they call me since the day I was born.

Caroline was tired and he didn't wanted to annoy her more than it was necessary, so he grabbed a blanket and covered her posture, more fragile than ever.

Thank you... Damon.- he heard before he left the room.

Somehow those few words made him even more nervous and alert, like she created the spell to bond them together, irreversibly, so he has no choice but watch on the threshold of her door till the break down.

At least that was what he thought.

It was midnight, when Elena called him.

Her shrill, irritated voice informed him that Bonnie is nowhere to be founded so there is no way to bring Caroline's memories back. Was there something...somewhere...to bring back? When Damon was trying to imagine memories all he could picture was bright, barely palpable threads immersed in nothingness.

If you steal something from someone's head- where would you put it?

Damon made a short walk to his bar and poured a golden bourbon into the glass.

Dirty, lost and golden – that how Caroline Forbes looked like when he found her. At first he thought it was a wild doe, and he was ready to turn back, since he wasn't hunting for animals... but for turists.

She was neither the hoofed creature nor a stranger, but Caroline. The sunlight of Mystic Falls, in the middle of the woods.

And she wasn't remember a thing.

Well, she actually knew wh was, and that was the bright side of the mess. But he could see something in her wide open eyes, as she tried to comfort her, as he took her home. Loneliness.

That...state was so unlike when it comes to miss Mystic Falls and the heart of Schooby Gang, she even seemed ... broken.

- You're not sleeping?- Damon heard her voice and turned around to saw her on the hallway.

- So as you.

- I don't... I don't think I can sleep here.

- Can't understand why. You were spending a lot time here, with Stefan, on your conspiratorial discussions about me and...

Damon hold his breath and last words of the sentence as he saw her face. „ She doesn't remember who, in seven hells, is Stefan." he realized and impure relief has filled his lungs. Noone gonna compare him to his little brother for once.

- You don't have to sleep, if you don't want to. Vampires don't have to do that. - he said and sat down at the couch.

The golden glow of bourbon in his glass turned to orange as light from the fireplace slashed it in half.

- And you are one. Remember that, at least?

- Yes.- she nodded her head and sat down next to him. - This is... a strange word. It's like... I don't know. Like I have learned it's meaning in a... really strange, really bad way.

Damon's gaze slipped from her eyes.

„ It's because of me. She was my puppet, after all; not the first, nor las. „

His fingers had tightened on the glass with rage. Shame, that was all he felt right now.

But it will be easly forgotten. His brother can't do a thing about it, Elena will come back anyway. And Caroline- his victim- doesn't even remember he hurt her. Where's the big deal?!

In her eyes.

Her eyes was telling him a little part of her conciousness does remember, maybe not the fact of feeding and abusing, but the hatred and disgust she felt that time- towards him, towards herself as well.

- Damon, are you all right?- she ashed suddenly.

- Yeah, I just... There is nothing. Want some snacks? I've got your favourite...

-... Be Positive!

- B+, indeed.- his lips curved into a smile.

When he came back to her with a blood bags, she was kneeling before the fireplace with her hands drawn to the fire.

- Have you lost your mind?!- Damon yelled. He was next to her in the moment.

The older vampire pulled her by the arm to get her away from the fireplace.

- I didn't want to do nothing...- she began.

Damon's muscles were still strained, but he forced himself to kneel next to her.

- My hands are cold.- she whispered, like it was something easy to fix.

It's not. Not when you're dead.

- So as mine. Since 1864

And caroline took his hands in hers, like a child, trying if adult's parts of body are, in some ways, similiar to hers.

- They are not.- she shook her head, giggling.

- How can you tell? You're not more alive than I am!

Maybe Caroline wasn't even listening to him anymore; she was just laughing, but that laughter, that childish joy was avoiding her eyes.

Loneliness.

Damon realized she was gazing in those eyes without blinking for a long moment.

„ It's my fault. She is m .

It's me- I broke her, I have poured that loneliness into her eyes."

But Caroline didn't care.

Or she didn't remember that she supposed to care. She came closer to him, her lips brushed against the corner of his.

- Caroline, that's not...- he wanted to say, she will regret, but what is regret, when you don't remember the reasons to sta ?

And he did kissed her back.

And he was trying to believe it's some kind of torture he subconsciously desires, as a punishment for all the things he's done, but no – he did that, because he knew he will like it.

Caroline's hands was stroking his hair as she pulled him closer and he placed his hands on her waist.

It felt like paradise;

her lips, tasting like bourboun and honey, her hair embroiled into his fingers, his tongue exploring her mouth.

Paradise he didn't deserve.

- Caroline, I am sorry, we have to stop.- he whispered and felt how her body tightens in anger and denial.

- Why!? - she stood up.- What stops you!?

- What you feel for me... is not real.- Damon said as he started to lift himself from the floor. - Everything you may feel for me now... If you ever knew what I did to you...

- Maybe I shouldn't have! Maybe that's how it supposed to be.

- No.- Damon shook his head decidedly. - What I did is unforgettable.

- WHY!?

- Because I HURT YOU!- he shouted and grabbed her wrists to emphasize what he's compable of. - Because I was manipulate you, I was using you as my puppet, as my living blood bank, as a damn portable fridge! I used every emotion you felt towards me in the ways I WANTED! I fed on you. I abused you, I made you believe you were NOTHING!

The eyes of golden puppet has filled with tears.

He let go of her wrists, hoping, she let go of him.

But she didn't.

For unknown reasons she was standing there.

When you have no memories in your head,

belief is actually all you have.

- Caroline...- Damon cleared his throat; his voice was strange even for himself.- I wanted you to know that, because it's better for you to hate me for what I did, than love me without knowing what I did.

- Why?- the echo of Caroline's voice asked.

But he couldn't said why. He didn't know.

Why?

He could start it all again. Fuck with her, dance with her, run away with her, do everything, he ever wanted with her- if he could only turn back time.

He didn't.

Caroline slammed the door and run away.

Damon Salvatore was alone again.

" My hands reall cold. "


End file.
